


and many sunrises more

by earlgrey_milktea



Series: as long as you stand by me (ffxv works) [6]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Lots of tears, Noctis Lives, Post-Canon Fix-It, Tears, Tumblr: ffxvweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 03:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11843259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgrey_milktea/pseuds/earlgrey_milktea
Summary: when the dawn comes, noctis doesn't notice.





	and many sunrises more

**Author's Note:**

> _ffxv week_  
>  day six: **the one true king**
> 
> *i'm glad noctis lives is a tag because bitch no chosen kings are dying on my watch  
> *idk where i was going with this one so everyone is just crying, sorry

When the dawn comes, Noctis doesn’t notice. Part of the throne room is torn open, the ceiling caved part way in. Glass and broken stone litter the ground, dust and ash still settling. The first slow rays of sunlight peeks in through the gaping holes of the Citadel, casting light on the boy—no, not a boy anymore, a man—pinned on the throne. He glows gold, as if once more caressed by the heavens, one last time.

When his Crownsguards, his friends, his brothers, crawl and stagger their way into the throne room, bloodstained and tear-stained and weary-boned, Noctis doesn’t notice. The steps up to the throne where he sits is split open and cracked. Prompto has to help Ignis find even footing while Gladio stumbles past the ruins to their King.

The sun is bright, warm on their dirty skin. Noctis doesn’t feel it. As his friends watch, reaching for him, his father’s sword fades into shimmering blue light right before their eyes. Noctis doesn’t move. For a moment, it’s like they’re suspended in this moment.

“Noct,” Prompto chokes out, letting go of Ignis. He stays still as Prompto trips up the remaining steps to Noctis’ feet.

“Is he...?” Ignis says, voice barely above a whisper.

Gladio is the one who steps forwards and touches him first. His skin is cold, his body still, but—

“He’s breathing,” Gladio says.

They ease him off the throne as gently as they can. Gladio’s head is still bleeding sluggishly, Ignis has a broken wrist, and there’s something wrong with Prompto’s leg. But they have little to nothing left, and the armiger isn’t working anymore. They’re not sure what that means. 

But Noctis is alive. And that’s more than anything they could have hoped for.

Ignis pulls out their last phoenix down. Gladio grips his shoulder. Prompto doesn’t dare take his eyes off Noctis’ face.

Gathered there, together around their King, they wait.

It takes seconds, minutes, what feels like hours. Outside, the sun rises steadily, the shattered remains of what once was their home lying empty as daemons fade into a memory. The survivors out beyond Insomnia’s broken wall will come outside and stare out in awe at the horizons—there is a horizon again. 

And here, their King is waking up.

Noctis coughs, eyes fluttering weakly. He comes to with the sound of Prompto’s hitching sobs by his ear, Ignis’ hand over his, and Gladio’s face peering down at him with a shaky expression Noctis has never seen on his Shield before.

“Noct,” Prompto cries, dripping tears all over Noctis’ face. “Welcome back.”

He can’t speak yet. He barely feels solid enough. The only thing he can do is squint at his friends.

Without any prompting, Ignis already knows what Noctis is asking. “You did it,” he tells Noctis, squeezing his fingers lightly. “You rid the world of the Starscourge. You brought the sun back, Noctis.”

They’re all smiling down at him, exhausted relief bleeding into their faces, eyes wet and shiny. Noctis can only stare, helplessly, something warm and soft quivering in his chest.

Later, he’ll figure out how to tell them what happened. He’ll scour his mind for the right words, tell them about the final battle, seeing his friends there, lending him their strength. He’ll tell them about Luna. He’ll tell them about his dad’s last words to him, his last bargain with the Astrals. He’ll tell them how the Crystal is no more and will remain no more. He’ll tell them that it’s over, it really is, and it won’t be easy from now on, but he wants to do things right. And they’ll mourn together. And they’ll lean on each other and learn how to move forwards again together.

But for now, with the help of his friends, Noctis stands. They make their way out of the throne room, into the echoing halls. Tears still stream down their faces, but they don’t stop until they reach the front steps of the Citadel.

Noctis can barely stand on his own. He’s leaning heavily on Gladio, who moves slow and not too steadily. Ignis and Prompto are behind them, supporting each other. They make quite the sight; a battered group of warriors, barely held together.

But below them. Throughout the ruined plaza below the stairs, there are people gathering. Men, women, the elderly, and the children, some leaning on another and some wrapped in bandages, looking dirty and small but alive. They stand before the four of them, faces tilted up, tiny smiles lit up by the sunlight sweeping over them all.

“They’re waiting for you,” Gladio murmurs. “Your people.”

Noctis stares. He still feels hollow and not entirely present, but there they are, staring up at him. 

Waiting for their King.

Taking a shuddering breath, Noctis pulls away from Gladio. His friend lets him go, holding his hands out in case Noctis falls. He sways, but remains standing. He takes a step forward. He looks across the square at his kingdom. Slowly, he lifts a shaking hand to his heart, and bows.

Quiet cheers spread throughout the people. Noctis can hear Prompto’s laughter behind him, he can feel Gladio’s steady hand on his back. He straightens, and faces the sun.

**Author's Note:**

> @puddingcatbae on tumblr/twitter!!


End file.
